AN: Wow, how long did it take me to update? Holy crap. I apologize. The second half of 2009 was awful, and I plan to be better this new year [consider it my New Year's Resolution!]. This chapter serves more as a way of introducing the real drama of Yale's little story arc. The next chapter will delve deeper into what's going on, and provide more insight, I promise.
Happy reading and please review!
---
Chapter Eight: Into the Wild: Drama Drama Drama
---
"The only thing worse than being talked about is not being talked about." - Oscar Wilde
---
Monday, March 12, 2029
It was nice to see that some things never changed: the boys of St. Jude's still smoked hash outside the entrance gate, the girls still gathered in small packs on the random tables and benches in the courtyard, and everyone still turned stopped and acknowledged teen royalty whenever they made themselves known.
"She's so dramatic." Tristan said with a crooked smile and a roll of his eyes after Evey and Viola made their way into the main building of the school.
"Come on, class is going to start soon and Mr. Farrand is an asshole to anyone who's late."
As we walked down the boy's half of the school, I couldn't help but feel like I was with the president of Alpha Delta Phi (again) and we were walking down the hall of the Haus*. It didn't help that Tristan towered over everyone else, and being the courteous boy that Blair raised him to be, he gave them all a quick eyebrow quirk of acknowledgement before walking past them.
"There you are, Bass! I thought you decided to ditch me for that exchange student… again." a voice exclaimed the moment we stepped into the classroom.
It was Christian Ellison, son of the third richest man in the country and Tristan's right-hand-man. The two had met years ago when Christian's father brought him along for a business meeting with Chuck. The two had immediately hit it off, and Blair was relieved that her son finally had a male friend (the other boys were more like man-servants).
"What's got you all worked up, Ellison? Is Daddy visiting his sole heir soon?" Tristan joked.
"Don't even get me started on that, Tris." He replied with a brief glare before shifting gears and settling his cornflower blue eyes on me.
"Now what have I done to deserve to be in the presence of your lovely aunt, T?"
Tristan rolled his eyes at his best friend's lame attempts at flirting before he sat down beside him and explained my project. I took the seat next to him right as the bell rang. Immediately, Farrand jumped into the day's lesson, and I watched silently as Tristan took out his notebook and pen and scribbled the occasional note.
"Now who could tell me the definition of the derivative of a function f at a point x?"
Farrand stared his class down as they stayed silent until Tristan threw his pen down onto his desk and closed his notebook. He answered in that snide-and-bored tone that was a family signature while he packed up his things, and then proceeded to lean back in his seat and stare blankly at the clock above the dry-erase board.
"Very good, Mr. Bass." Farrand said before going continuing his lecture, twitching with annoyance at the fact that my nephew had already mentally checked-out of his class.
---
"I can't believe I waste an hour everyday in that class." Christian said as we left the room.
"I don't know about that, Chris. You actually looked a little confused." I taunted.
"Well we can't all be the boy wonder, now can we?" He replied with a laugh and a shoulder bump to Tristan.
They escorted me to the Constance Billard half of the building, and we met up with Evey and Viola at Evey's locker.
"What are you doing here, Ellison?" Evey asked in that annoyed tone of voice I knew she learned from her mother.
"Dropping off this ever-resplendent creature, of course." He replied with a sly smile while he draped one arm over my shoulders.
I scoffed at his second pathetic attempt at a pass.
"I'm not into pedophilia, Christian." I said as I shrugged off his arm.
"But baby, I'm all man where it counts."
"Okay, you need to stop, man. You're just being gross now." Tristan said.
The boys and Viola laughed while Evey's mouth turned down into a scowl.
"You are a heinous and disgusting pig, Christian Ellison." She said as she gave him a sharp poke to his solar plexus with her index finger.
"Aww Princess, don't be jealous…"
"Like I would want you!"
Tristan, Viola, and I exchanged wide-eyed looks as the two continued to bicker. Ever since Christian had moved here two years ago, Evey had seemingly been in a constant state of annoyance with him. He didn't seem to be bothered in the slightest whenever they were within each other's proximity, but that didn't mean he didn't enjoy ruffling her feathers.
"Alright Evey, let's retract the claws and head to class." Viola said as she pulled her friend away.
Evangeline's second period class was Honors European history, and she had it with Ms. Loretta Reed, who had been my favorite teacher during my time at Constance. Class was just about to start when we slipped into the room and sat in the two curiously empty seats right at the front.
"I had Winnie save you a seat beside me." Evey said as she took her preferred seat.
The next three hours were a mix of enduring mind-numbing boredom and vigilant observation making. I had determined that Evey was Blair incarnate when it came to school. I grew up on stories of how my sister had a flawless GPA from the moment she went to kindergarten (thanks for raising the bar to new heights, sis), and was absolutely ruthless when it came to academic competition. During her fourth period chemistry class I watched as she glared down a classmate who dared to finish the day's experiment before her. Thankfully, Tristan wasn't as bad. Yes, he was also a complete nerd, but he never felt the need to flaunt his academic prowess. Instead, he passed time by emailing the caterers who were providing the food for Victrola's reopening and shopping online.
"What are you going to buy?" I asked him when we were in his third period AP Lit. class.
"A new pair of riding boots. Christian and I are going to Stone Meadow next weekend to play a low goal game, and I need a new pair of boots." He replied.
Tristan was an avid polo player, and had been so since he was five. Chuck likes to say that his son's love for horses and equine-dependent sports all sprung from the God-awful expensive rocking horse he bought for him when he was a baby, but Blair would say that it was a Bass trait to like horses (she would then mumble something obscene about them riding hard and putting away wet). Either way, Tristan owned a stable full of horses, a majority of which were polo ponies. They were kept in their home in East Hampton, Stone Meadow Farms, along with the other children's horses.
"Are you even going to try to pay attention?" I asked, noticing that yet another one of his teachers was glaring at him for blatantly ignoring lecture.
"Why should I? It's a literature class, Yale, you read the book, you stew about the themes, then you regurgitate the book in essay form. Besides, if anybody's going to be doing any searching for lost time, it'll be me. This class is such a waste of time." Tristan replied with a brief glance at the tome sitting on his desk.
He was right, of course, and I was pretty sure that Roman had read À la recherché du temps perdu to his grandchildren sometime during their childhood in an effort to not only saturate them with French culture, but to also celebrate the homosexual themes in Proust's work.
Fifth period proved to be the most entertaining class. It was Advanced drama and Tristan, Evey, and Viola were in it together. The play that they were going to perform in the spring was "Twelfth Night", and Tristan was set the play Orsino while Evey was Olivia and Viola was, well, Viola. I couldn't resist laughing while watching Tristan act as if he was in love with his sister, and it was even funnier watching Evangeline fawn over her cross-dressing best friend.
"I'm glad that you're getting a laugh out of this," Viola said with a small smile as she took the seat next to me.
"There's nothing like dressing like a man and running around pretending to be your brother. What I'm wondering though is why Tristan isn't playing Sebastian. You two have the same brown hair and blue eyes, why make it awkward for the majority of the play? At least if he was Sebastian the icky incestuousness would only be at the end."
Viola let out a small scoff of amusement before answering.
"That's what I was thinking, but Miss Prescott insists that Tristan has to be Orsino. She says that any other role would be 'doing a disservice to his great talent.' It's more likely that she wants to use his pretty-boy ways to guarantee a full house on opening night; I can just see the hoards of girls in the front row, flinging their Aubade panties at him while he tries to woo his sister."
"What's this about lingerie and wooing sisters?" Tristan asked as he plopped himself down onto the seat on my other side.
"Nothing, other than the fact that your drama teacher is using you to ensure the attendance of every girl in the school, and the likely possibility of you being avalanched in their discarded underwear once you wow them with your magnificent skills."
"Been there, done that." Tristan replied with a wicked looking smirk.
"You're disgusting," Viola said as she shook her head in disapproval.
"Now, now, Vi, no need to be catty. We both know that you're my number one." He said.
I felt like I was watching the most intense game of tennis as I looked back and forth at the both of them. I didn't know if Tristan was joking with what he said, but the earnest look he was giving Vi convinced me that he wasn't. Viola seemed to have realized his sincerity the same time I did, and the moment she did she bolted from her seat and made her way backstage.
"You want to tell me what that was about?" I asked as we both watched Viola's head of long brown hair disappear behind the stage curtains.
He leaned back on the cushioned theatre seat and covered his eyes with his forearm before letting out a long drawn sigh.
"Not even in the least."
---
By lunch it had seemed as if the tense moment between Tristan and Viola never happened. The two of them walked on either side of Evey as they made their way to the Met, where they met up with the merry band of followers. Clarice and the rest of the girls quickly found their seats near the bottom of the second set of steps while Evey and Tristan sat at the top of the second landing.
"What's for lunch today, Evey?" I asked when I noticed that they didn't bring any food.
"It's Halal day, Yale. Thiago is getting us our food, in fact, he should have been here already." Evey replied, turning to her friend and asking where her butler was.
"He's just around the block, E, don't worry." Viola said as she made her way down the steps.
A minute later a tall, excessively burly man came bustling down the block carrying a bright yellow bag.
"É aqui seu almoço, meu querido."** He said as he handed the bag to her.
"Obrigado, Thiago." Viola replied as she gave the man a quick hug before making her way towards us and handing out the plates of food.
"Is this from fifty-third and sixth?" I asked as I took off the cardboard cover and found the familiar chicken and gyros combination.
"Mmmhmm." Evey replied as she chewed a mouthful of pita and cabbage.
"But they don't open until seven-thirty."
"For the rest of the world they open at seven-thirty, but I can get food from them whenever I want. My grandfather was good friends with the owner's father and he knows how much I love my gyros." Viola explained as she drowned her plate in the delicious yogurt sauce.
"Heart attack on a plate, again, Vi?" Clarice asked from her place below us.
"Life's too short to be eating salads all the time, Clarice."
"Well I sure hope that you'll still be able to fit into Mrs. Bass's new designs." the other girl said snidely.
"God, Clarice, stop reminding us about that! You sound like my grandmother!" Evey exclaimed before shoveling another mouthful of food into her mouth.
---
"Where is that idiot? He was supposed to be here by the time Arthur got here." Evey said as we waited for Tristan next to the limo.
It was already after school and their shoot with Aaron was scheduled to start in half an hour.
Midway through lunch Tristan got a phone call and decided to ditch his last two classes with the promise that he'd be back at the school by the time classes let out.
"Relax, E, your uncle isn't going to care if we're late." Viola said as she leaned against the car.
"Uncle Aaron may not care, but you know Maman is going to go ape if she finds out we're late because that means we'll be late for dinner."
Dinner was The thing my sister firmly established with her family. She hated when it was pushed to a later time (I remember hearing her screaming at Chuck to leave the office when I was younger), but she hated having a family member missing even more. Of course there are times when they don't have dinner all together, but unless you had given her a forewarning as to your absence/late arrival, Blair will send blood hounds to trace you down and give you the scolding of a lifetime.
"There he is," I said as I saw the figure of my nephew two blocks down.
It was always easy to spot Tristan in a crowd, he was usually a few inches taller than everyone else, which was strange considering neither side of his family had very tall people. Mother is 5'10", which was on the tall side, and Chuck says that his father was 6'1", but Tristan topped off at 6'4". If it wasn't for his obvious resemblance to Bart, Chuck would have continued to tease Blair about the possibility of a milk-man scenario.
"Sorry I'm late." Tristan said as he sauntered over to us.
Only a Bass would have the gall to saunter when he was running late.
"And where, exactly, did you go?" Evey asked as she crossed her arms and waited for an answer.
"That's none of your business, now are we going to go or what? We're running behind."
"And whose fault is that?"
"Just get in the damned car, Evangeline."
---
"That's perfect, Evey. Keep giving me more of that. Yeah, that's it."
Listening to my brother talk to his models while conducting a photo shoot was the main reason why I never wanted to spend any time with him while he was working. He sounded like a dirty old man with a side of porn-director, and it was a million times more disturbing now that he was photographing his niece.
"That's why I always bring something, anything, to listen to."
"Excuse me?" I asked, snapping out of my daze and turning to the girl who sat next to me.
"The way Aaron is talking to E. It's the reason why I have to have my headphones blasting music loud enough to almost make me deaf… I usually end up with that disgusted facial expression you're sporting right now if I have to listen to him talk dirty."
I laughed at Viola's astute observation while continuing to watch Evangeline pose in front of the camera. One hour had already elapsed in the shoot, and all that was left was to get Evey's shots done. Tristan was the first to get his photos done, and I honestly didn't understand how him appearing nude in a tub would help promote a clothing line, but I stopped questioning Aaron's creative vision a long time ago.
"Blair's going to be over the moon when she sees how good these photos turn up." I said, breaking comfortable lapse of silence Viola and I had fallen into.
"Then Aaron will be happy. I mean, that's all he's after, isn't it?"
I glanced at Viola from the corner of my eye, watching as she rested her head on the back of the overstuffed couch we both sat on and stared blankly at the ceiling.
"You noticed that, huh?"
She turned to me and gave me a wry smile.
"It's not that hard to miss."
And it was true. My brother had been a little bit obsessed with my sister for years now, which makes me want to cry foul and run to the nearest shrink. It was the main reason why Blair managed to get, according to everyone in the art world, one of "the greatest photographers of the generation" to shoot each and every one of her clothing lines' campaigns. No matter where he was in the world, Aaron would always come back in time for the next fashion season. I knew I wasn't the only one who had noticed his strange devotion to Blair, but no one said anything out loud. What could Daddy or Mother say? Actually, I knew what Mother would say if it didn't lead up to mortifying everyone (the words "Appalachian hillbillies" come to mind).
It was even more obvious than ever last year when the whole Waldorf-Rose-Van der Humphrey-Bass family celebrated Thanksgiving at Stone Meadow. I was with Blair, Evey, and Bea in the kitchen helping (i.e. sitting and watching) Harold and Roman with the three pies they were baking when Aaron arrived. He had given everyone the obligatory hug, but he hugged Blair a little bit longer, and I swear on my vintage Cartier rose pendant that he even sniffed her hair.
Still, Blair doesn't seem to have noticed. Either that, or she chose to ignore it, and instead, exploited his feelings for her by making him do her bidding. The more I thought about it, the latter was the much more likely option.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Already have." She said with an impish smile.
"Don't be a smart ass."
"Well then fire away."
"What's up with Evey and Christian?" I asked, remembering their little exchange earlier.
"What do you mean?" Viola replied, suddenly sitting up straight.
"You know, Evey rarely lets her feathers get ruffled, and when they do, it isn't done with a single comment. It was like she thought he had cooties or something."
"More like she wants some of his cooties, but he'd never let her have any of it."
"Oh." Oh.
"Yeah… don't tell her that I told you. She's embarrassed by how she, Manhattan's social butterfly, is pining away for him and he won't give her the time of day." She said with something akin to empathy.
"It's even worse when you consider the fact that he slums it with people like Kossandra and¾"
Before she could finish her sentence the trill of her phone, along with Evey and Tristan's phone, went off in a repeat of this morning. I watched as Viola opened the video message and soon the voice of the resurrected gossip girl permeated the air.
"I suppose that its only fitting that the top of the totem pole is the one to get the gossip ball rolling, and in this case I mean the King of St. Jude's."
The video was a bit shaky, but it was undeniable who was the focus of this blast.
"Tristan Bass was seen earlier frantically sucking the lip gloss off of Margaret Johnson."
Oh. My. God. There was my nephew and Margot, going at each other by what looked like the archway of the National Academy Museum.
"If I'm not mistaken, Miss Margaret graduated from Dominican Academy a few years ago, and is besties with her paramour's aunt, our own former Queen Yale Rose. Oh, what a tangled web you weave, T, but kudos for catching a cougar. Your godfather would be proud."
The video ended just as Tristan dragged Margot into the limo that had just rolled into the shot, and I quickly turned to where the teen Casanova was sitting. He had awoken from his nap to the sound of the video message on his phone and now looked like a deer in the headlights.
"Would you like to tell me what you were doing with my best friend, Tris?" I asked.
He ignored my murderous glare, and that's when I noticed that his gaze was connected to the silent girl who sat next to me.
"I have to go." Viola said before practically running out the door, not slowing down even when Evey called out after her.
"What the hell happened?" Evangeline exclaimed once Viola slammed the door of the studio shut.
She was standing in front of Tristan with arms akimbo while he ran a hand through his hair in frustration.
"I have no fucking idea." I replied, all I knew was that this was going to be one hell of a week.
---
*the Haus is the building where the members of the Alpha Delta Phi (ADF), Columbia chapter, live. It's located on 523 W 114 St. NY, NY.
** "Here is your lunch, my darling."
"Thank you, Thiago."